


If I could never give you peace

by paleblueeyes1823



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Miscarriage, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Time Skips, hopefully some dadko/momtara???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26868040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paleblueeyes1823/pseuds/paleblueeyes1823
Summary: A series of vignettes looking into the tumultuous, beautiful, and at times tragic life of Zuko and Katara in the years following the Hundred Year War, inspired by the lyrics of Peace by Taylor Swift.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. A Coming of Age

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Peace from Taylor Swift's album Folklore the other day and me being the hopeless romantic I am couldn't help but think of how the lyrics perfectly fit Zutara (at least how I picture them). E.g. "It's like I'm wasting your honor???" I mean, come on, I can't be the ONLY one who sees it. Anyway, this lovely song has inspired me to write one shots based on the lyrics, and while I wasn't intending on writing something for *every* line, I might very well at this point because the inspiration and ideas are just coming way too easily. I have written this for myself more than anything, but if you happen to read my words, I do hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Chapter One lyric inspiration: "Our coming of age has come and gone, suddenly this summer it's clear"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He senses a shift, maybe simply within himself, or maybe the entire universe has found itself in a new alignment. The coming of age for the small amount of time this society will rule the Earth, his coming of age, has come and already it is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyric Inspiration: "Our coming of age has come and gone, suddenly this summer it's clear"

For the first time in years, he feels something that can only be described as content. Not quite happiness—not yet—but content. His country, not to mention the entire world, is in a state of chaos. Life as it was known has been tossed upside down and thrown out the window—for both him and his nation’s citizens. But his mind, though thoughts still swarm in a frenzy, has never been so calm. His head is in a state of fuzzy, muted chaos, and it’s almost refreshing in comparison to what he’s used to.

He senses a shift, maybe simply within himself, or maybe the entire universe has found itself in a new alignment. The coming of age for the small amount of time this society will rule the Earth, _his_ coming of age, has come and already it is gone. The winds of change have brought upon a new era and with them, a new perspective. He isn’t sure how he feels about anything anymore—his sister, his country, the blue-eyed girl who fought beside him. He thinks of her in a way he’s never thought about anyone before and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

So instead he takes a deep breath, resolved to take it one day at a time. He looks up to the rising sun, ready to start his day. A day of learning his new role as Firelord, a day of rebuilding his country, a day of regaining the honor lost by the atrocious acts of his predecessors. In his core, he feels it; he is the scarred state of nature that is left after a wildfire, the butterfly emerging from its cocoon. He is born anew.


	2. Family That I Chose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, he thinks to himself, your family can be the family you choose, not necessarily the one you are born into. And that is all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyric Inspiration: "Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother"

It hits him all at once and he is momentarily taken aback. In a matter of weeks all these people—this culture—will become a part of his own legacy.

They are sitting in his soon to be father-in-law’s igloo, a small old woman carrying a pot of something hot and steaming to the table.

“Gran Gran,” Katara jumps up from her spot next to where he sits, “let me help you.” 

The old woman obliges, and Katara takes the ladle from her, serving the hot broth into five bowls. He is thankful to be sitting here, in a place that feels planets away from his cabinet meetings in stifling rooms enveloped in red and gold. The icy walls that stare back at him are barren and cold. It’s refreshing. Katara had to put up with months of fire nation royal engagement protocol, the least he could do was the same for her. Water tribe engagement ceremonies were thankfully much shorter, though no less culturally significant. And so together they have come down to the South Pole to repeat the same traditions her parents had done and their parents had done for generations back before marrying. 

His first few years of serving as Firelord had been marred with a distinct sense of loneliness. Physically, he was constantly surrounded by people. Advisors clamoring for his attention, servants moving in the shadows, ready to fulfill any command presented to them. But at the end of the day, all he had was himself. Mai had been the presence that filled that loneliness for those first few months, but once what they had ended, they knew the relationship between them was irrevocably tarnished and she would never, _could_ never, be that person for him. She was not the kind of person to offer a shoulder to lean on at the end of a long, hard day. It was isolating, not having someone to vent his frustrations to, share his fears with, most of the time not even share a meal with. 

His own family was still a hard subject. He had his uncle, he had regained his mother, and he might have even had Azula, but he knew all it amounted to was a cheap shell of what a family was really supposed to be. Family wasn’t an estranged mother—the one person who was supposed to love and protect him through everything—who had to relearn how to interact with her own son. Family was certainly not a sister who, though healing and on the track to recovery, tried multiple times to kill him. Frankly, on her bad days he could still see that side of her, the hatred that bore so deep into her core, penetrating the very essence of who she was. He always had his uncle, and he knew that, but it was not enough. He was no longer the thirteen year old banished prince he once was, in desperate need of love and guidance to make up for the lack from his own family. It hurt him to admit it, but he had reached a point in life where he needed more, the support of someone who could be his partner in life in every sense, every step of the way. His uncle—who raised him as his own, loved him when everyone else rejected him—was a lot to him, but he certainly was not that. 

He is brought back to the present by a delicate hand pushing a bowl in front of him. His eyes travel up the hand to an equally delicate face and he smiles. 

“Thank you, my love.”

He looks to his right, sees the boy—now a man—who over the years grew to be more of a sibling to him than his own sister had ever been. He is laughing at something his father has said, who has entered the room and is now sitting down across the round table.

He turns to his left, Katara now back in her seat beside him. He reaches his hand towards hers, squeezing once. She tilts her head and looks at him, eyes brimming with happiness. 

He feels the history of this family in the room. Her mother, though long since passed, lives on in essence in the eyes of her children and the stories of her husband. This quiet form of immortality is all he can ever want for his family and the future families that will persist long after he is just another name in their line of lineage. 

“Go ahead and eat.” Gran Gran says, and they begin—all five of them at the table now—recounting how their days went. Sokka makes a sarcastic comment about Zuko’s subpar sled driving skills, but he just laughs, shrugging in his thick blue parka. 

_Sometimes_ , he thinks to himself, _your family can be the family you choose, not necessarily the one you are born unto_. And that is all right. He is not his father, bitter and cruel, nor his grandfathers, who started and fed a selfishly devastating war that showed no regard to destroying the innocent lives of thousands. He will remember his history, the good and the bad that got him to where he is now. He will always have a place in his heart for the people he still loves and those he is relearning to love. But he will also assume a new identity. He is Zuko, son-in-law to Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water tribe, brother-in-law to Sokka. He is Zuko, husband to master waterbender Katara. He is honored to be welcomed as a part of this family, honored even more to have the privilege of extending it further. 

For perhaps the first time in his life, he is happy to be surrounded by his family, content in knowing that he is somewhere he truly belongs. 

  
  



	3. Keep Your Heart Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was Katara: fearless, intelligent, bold. But she was still a woman and no amount of convincing of her righteousness or worthiness could spare her from the ruthless indifference of nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyric Inspiration: “But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade, ocean wave blues come”

He had never seen her like this. She was Katara: fearless, intelligent, bold. But she was still a woman, and no amount of convincing of her righteousness or worthiness could spare her from the ruthless indifference of nature.

The weeks after were hard, to say the least. While it slowed, the blood continued to flow, reminding her of the loss and emptiness inside of her, both mentally and physically. It wasn’t easy for him either, but he knew the depth of their pain was not the same. He would never know what it was like to carry and nurture a life inside of himself all just to lose it, but he could understand how unimaginable the pain would be.

He saw the fetus. He watched her pick it up, hands shaking violently, its body dwarfed by her palm. It looked alien and entirely inhuman and something about that broke his heart even more. While he struggled to comprehend the bond between him and that lifeless creature, all she saw was what could have been. She cried harder when someone finally, apologetically, took it from her—as she had requested, they needed to prepare it for burial.

As the Firelord, he did not have the luxury of coping in the days and weeks that followed, but they both knew he did not need it, not the way she did. She felt her emotions strongly—the way she always had. The fierce love and motivation that made her who she was was equally balanced in strength by the waves of despair and sadness that crashed onto her in moments like this. It would be a bit of time before she resumed life as normal, but with some gentle persistence, he was able to get her to leave the palace and walk with him around the gardens. It was a start. And so at the end of each day, once the meetings were concluded and the advisors had gone home, they would walk through the various gardens of the palace arm in arm. At first she would insist on passing the small grave every time, where she would sit in front of the small mound of dirt, head bowed, silent. He would sit next to her and wait, standing when she stood. Then, after the first few days of visits it changed to briefly pausing in front and saying a few words, until eventually they were able to go days at a time without walking past the grave. _Progress_ , he thought to himself.

Their walks always ended with the sunset. One evening, after her first day of picking the scrolls back up and reading about the newest trade amendments since before _it_ happened, she stands by his side, arms curled around one of his and head on his shoulder, both watching the sun sink from where they stand on a high bluff. She watches the golden light bathe his face, a look of contentment in his eyes. The sun finally makes contact with the water far out on the horizon, and he is lit up in a way that practically makes him glow from the inside out. He is a fire and he is blinding, permeating her skin and igniting her mind, body, spirit. He wraps his arms around her waist and holds her close as the sun sinks, the water pulling it down and into itself, until the only trace left to mark that it was ever there is a dusky pink hue in a now empty sky. The world is calm and quiet, ready to start everything over again the next day. And like the rest of the world, she too is ready to begin anew. She feels that cold, dark wave that has engulfed her over the past weeks finally start to recede, her heart protected by the warmth of his embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the kudos, comments always appreciated too :)


End file.
